


A Friend Isn't a Good Friend If They're Not Looking Out For Your Genitals

by crossroadswrite



Series: Howls From Last Night [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Humor, Multi, POV Lydia Martin, Pack, Texts From Last Night, my attempts and fails at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>(425): Herpes is not a lady problem you can solve with shower beers and kissing boys</b><br/>.<br/>Erica comes crashing from where she had been robbing Derek out of his food, arms loaded with pop tarts and Nutella. “I’m here, I’m here! What did I miss? Are we finally doing that orgy thing?”</p><p>“We’re not starting an orgy.”</p><p>Erica pouts. “Then why did you call me?”</p><p>“I didn’t call you,” Lydia feels the need to point out. “I said sex and you appeared.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend Isn't a Good Friend If They're Not Looking Out For Your Genitals

Look, it’s not like Lydia likes to _pry_ into other people’s lives. She definitely does not like to pry into other people’s sex lives. No, that’s more Erica’s thing.

But you know, Lydia is an observant person, it comes with being smart, and there’s some things she can’t just ignore. _Not_ because she likes to pry, but because she’s a good friend, and good friends worry about their friends and their genitalia. That’s all that is to it.

The thing is: safe sex is important. Safe sex is always the most important whether you’re doing it with a werewolf, a kanima or a fellow human.

Lydia likes sex, she might even _love_ sex. It’s fun when done right, it always gives her a boost and makes her feel great about her body. It’s good for the soul and all that crap.

All kinds of sex are fun kinds of sex and she absolutely shouldn’t meddle or pry, but, it’s not meddling or prying in this particular situation. It’s being _worried._

She’s doing a public service here, okay!

That’s what she tells them when they stare blankly at her as she shakes the small tin trashcan Derek keeps next his dresser at them.

“Um?”

“Is this what you called a pack meeting about?” Liam asks carefully. “Because, I was beating Mason’s ass at Mario Kart, so?”

Lydia glares at him and almost feels bad for it when he whines in the back of his throat and ducks his head.

That one is too puppy like for his own good. He needs to stop spending so much time with Scott.

“Sex,” she says and watches as half of the pack sighs wearily and the other half perks up.

Erica comes crashing from where she had been robbing Derek out of his food, arms loaded with pop tarts and Nutella. “I’m here, I’m here! What did I miss? Are we finally doing hat orgy thing?”

Mason’s head snaps to her, eyes wide.

“Ugh, not you kiddies, you can go to bed if we’re getting our sexin’ on.”

“We’re not _that_ -“

“Shut up!” Lydia demands. “We’re not starting an orgy.”

Erica pouts. “Then why did you call me? I was getting food. I haven’t eaten in thirty years.”

“Three hours,” Boyd supplies, taking the food away from here and setting it on the coffee table in front of him. “You haven’t eaten in three hours.”

Erica pouts and sits on his lap, cuddling his head against her boobs like she likes to do.

“I didn’t call you,” Lydia feels the need to point out. “I said sex and you appeared.”

“That is my summoning word, yes.”

She sighs and considers just giving up on the entire thing, but then she reminds herself she’s a good friend and good friends don’t let other friends do stupid shit like have unprotected sex just because they’re werewolves or are fucking/getting fucked by werewolves.

“Condoms!” she says as way of explanation and shakes the tiny trashcan full of papers and candy wrap at Derek threateningly.

Derek, as usual, looks unimpressed, raising his eyebrows in a way that indicates he’s very close to backflipping out of a window but hasn’t reached critical ‘done with life’ levels so for now he will listen to what she has to say.

What? They’ve all been hanging out for some time and while Stiles is the one that can read the most intricate of Derek’s eyebrow language by now pretty much all of them know at least the basics of it.

“Lydia,” Stiles says gently. “You know I love you, but I was kicking Isaac’s ass at minigolf so why, oh why my strawberry blonde goddess did you call a pack meeting to wave a trashcan at my boyfriend’s face?”

She drops the trashcan on the floor with a clatter and crosses her arms over her chest. “I want to know how many of you aren’t practicing save sex because you’re werewolves.”

Dead silence for a couple of seconds. Lydia could probably have heard the drop of a hair in the silence that reigned after she uttered those words.

“Come on,” she encourages. “Let’s see a hand count.”

Scott, Isaac and Jackson all raise their hands and seriously, Lydia should’ve guessed. She shifts her gaze over to Cora who raises her eyebrows at her, almost as unimpressed as her brother.

“Do I look stupid to you?” she challenges.

Lydia opens her mouth to answer but decides that Cora Hale isn’t the kind of people worth ruining your manicure for in a catfight.

(Not that it would ever get to that, the day in which those two would collide would faster end up in marathon sex than an actual brawl.)

“Don’t even dare look at me, Martin,” Erica states, sniffing haughtily, and petting Boyd’s bald head like he’s a cat. “I’m too young to be a mother, always wrap it before you tap it.”

Her gaze turns back to Derek and Stiles that had stayed remarkably quiet during the exchange.

She raises both eyebrows, prompting them to confess to their sins and receives a clueless look and a daring eyebrow raise in return.

Lydia looks heavenwards and sighs. “You ever heard of asymptomatic carriers? Typhoid Mary? No? Because there are people who can carry diseases and spread them without _actually_ becoming infected, so if you two morons don’t use protection Stiles could very well-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stiles interrupts. “Do you have empirical proof that werewolves _can_ carry diseases without getting them. Wouldn’t their super wolfy immune system, like, go all grrr on the pesky little infections?”

“It’s a _possibility_. It’s not like I can consult Werewolf Health Weekly for this. And until we know for sure werewolves _can’t_ carry diseases, I want all of you being safe and that includes you two.” She stabs two fingers towards Derek and Stiles. “Because Stiles is one of my best friends and if anything happens to him I _will_ have your balls on a silver platter.”

“She’s right, you know. You can’t go free dicking just because you’re an Alpha big brother,” Cora agrees.

“Seriously? You’re siding with her?” Derek asks, unimpressedness rising to dangerous levels.

She shrugs one shoulder and pretends she doesn’t care.

“D’awwww, Cory-cu you _like me_.”

“No I don’t. Die of a STD I don’t care,” she huffs, but Stiles is already climbing over the back of the couch and chasing her around the loft making kissy faces at the air.

“Stop!” Cora screeches, or comes as close to a screech as Cora ever will. “I’m going to get your _cooties_ , Stiles, stop.”

Lydia turns her attention back to Derek and ignores Stiles’ attempts to tackle Cora down.

“Do you even know how _annoying_ and _bad_ STDs are?”

“She’s right,” Allison pipes up, smiling benevolently from her place, gently petting Isaac’s curls. "Herpes is not a lady problem you can solve with shower beers and kissing boys.”

All the girls nod along in agreement.

Derek starts looking constipated. “It’s none of your busine-“

“It _is_ my business-“

“It’s. _None_. Of. Your. Business. And even if it were, Stiles and I aren’t having sex, so the point is moot.”

Cora comes back growling softly and rubbing at her cheek with the sleeve of her sweater.

Stiles comes back grinning, attempts to vault over the couch and ends up sprawled on Derek’s and Scott’s laps.

“What are we talking about?” he questions, wiggling into a comfortable position but not budging from his spot.

“Yours and Derek’s sex life.”

He snorts, almost chocking on his own spit. “What sex life? Derbuns won’t touch my dick until I’m old enough for the state of California to declare my booty legal.”

Jackson stares at them dubiously. “Bullshit. Just last week you two smelled like spunk.”

Derek looks to the side, ears tinting red adorably.

“I’m one month away from eighteen and there’s nothing wrong with a little bump and grind, man. I’m mature for my age anyway with all those death experiences and traumatizing events and whatnot. So yeah, excuse me if I like to have a little _frottage_ on the menu,” he declares, pronouncing the word with a horrible French accent.

Liam whines loudly. “I don’t need to know these things.”

“I do,” Mason volunteers, leaning forward a little from where he’s perched on the TV table.

“Seconded,” Erica calls out.

Cora makes a gagging noise that’s quickly followed by several loud and creative disagreements uttered by the rest of the pack.

“Now that we’ve established that the boys are all morons that need to start wearing condoms – _yes_ , even for blowjobs – can we go now?” Cora asks. “I have a date with a punching bag that I really don’t want to miss.”

“I hope you are going to the gym and not actually going around punching your dates, Cory-cu.”

“ _Don’t call me that_ ,” she growls.

Lydia sighs and waves a hand dismissively. “Fine, whatever. But _don’t_ think I’m not having a one on one with each of you about your malpractices on sex,” she announces, and then to really put the fear of God in them, “with Stiles’ help.”

Stiles fistpumps. “Hell yeah, Der drive me to the grocery store I have cucumbers to buy!”

Derek sighs wearily and rolls Stiles off his lap, standing up and walking away. And coming back with his car keys.

Lydia raises an eyebrow and smirks at him; Derek glowers.

Sometimes she forgets how gone Derek is on Stiles and when she remembers she almost feels the need to coo.

But that’s more Kira’s thing than hers and she’s not the kind of person to steal other’s thunder. Much.

The pack all get up and start filing out, one by one and Lydia goes to follow, shouldering her purse, but a gentle hand wrapped securely around her arm stops her.

She spins around and glares at Derek. “What?”

“I-“ he clears his throat on a growl and glowers. “I just wanted to tell you that you don’t need to worry about Stiles. I’d _never_ hurt him like that. I’m not _stupid,_ contrary to popular belief.”

Well, and just what is she supposed to do with that? It’s not like she can lowkey dislike the Hales and their glaring, brooding ways if they’re secret sweethearts like that.

She offers Derek a considering smile, looks him up and down. “Yeah I’m starting to get that.”

Derek nods, a jerky barely there movement before turning away in search for Stiles who’s probably snooping around in Derek’s drawers.

Lydia sighs and heads up, declaring it a mild success. After all she knows one of her best friends is being safe and won’t die of something horrible and she now has a handful of boys she can unleash hell upon.

She smirks. This is gonna be fun. Maybe she’ll even ask Erica for help, just to spice things up.

**Author's Note:**

> [i honestly don't even know anymore.](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com)


End file.
